


Captis Haven

by Redfoxline



Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Noctis Lucis Caelum, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redfoxline/pseuds/Redfoxline
Summary: When Noctis woke up, he realized several things.One: he was hurt and he couldn't remember anything from the days prior.Second: this was not Insomnia.Three: he didn't know the man with tattooed shoulders and a murderous glint in his eyes.He had to get out of here.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948477
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Captis Haven

**Author's Note:**

> Me, whenever I play FFXV: "Square, let my babies live!"  
> Me, opening a new Google Doc: "Now let's have my babies suffeeeer!"  
> This was written for the prompt "Memory Loss" of the Whumptober Challenge 2020.  
> By the way, this is a Hurt/comfort fic but don't expect the comfort before chapter too.

Noctis hastily closed his eyes again.

He tried to feign sleep by keeping his breath slow and steady. His drumming heart made the task feel ridiculously difficult to achieve. With luck on his side, the man hadn’t caught him being awake before he turned back.

Eyelids shut, he focused on the sounds around him. There were some rustles of metallic cans from the cooler Noctis had spotted at the feet of the small kitchen area. More clattering sounds followed, indicating the man was now handling pots, and the tale-tell of a stove coming to life.

Noctis dards for another look.

The man was massive. It was dark out there, with only the campfire warming his soles to lighten the night. The flames illuminated broad, tattooed shoulders.

Dread settled in his throat, heavy and cold.

He was certain now: he didn't know this man.

Attempting to recall the events of the day prior proved to be useless, his memories so blurred it threatened to send him back into slumber when he tried to reel them in. It reminded him of the year prior when Cor had him drugged so he could experience the effects in a safe place and recognize them. Noctis had awakened safe and sound, if completely groggy, with his father hovering nearby. Even then, the fresh wave of panic from wakening without being able to recall what had happened had been disturbing.

It was far worse now. Wherever he was, this was definitely not Insomnia. His body felt both extenuated and hurt, which could only mean he had been dragged out there by force. But how? He could vaguely remember Prompto helping him cramming for the math test last week. He had worked one or two shifts at the sushi restaurant the following days for sure. They had a fun night out with his friends. Was it at the arcade? Or bowling?

Yet placing those events in order remained impossible, as if they had happened to him in a different timeline. When had he been taken away? Was it during his commute back from school, in broad daylight? During one combat training outside the wall, at the outskirts of the city checkpoint? He certainly didn't remember having one planned on his agenda. 

If the drugs were messing up that badly with his mind, did they affect his link with his magic?

Slowly, he mentally reached out to the old spirits within, his consciousness brushing against the ethereal feeling of the Armiger.. It felt like opening a curtain and feeling the breeze coming in, allowing him to pick in the magical pocket. Comforted that, at least, he had weapons at hand, he mentally dismissed the magic and immediately felt worn out. Summoning more magic would probably suck his energy dry in his current state.

The memory of the dangerous glint in the eyes of the tattooed man rushed back to his mind, bringing with it a new wave of terror. Those were the eyes of a killer.

He couldn't stay here.

***

It took less than ten seconds for the world to shift.

One moment Gladio was talking with Ignis, reassuring him their charge was indeed still asleep, and the next his eyes crossed Noctis’ opened stare, wide and filled with a mix of terror and determination Gladio would never have thought could be one day directed at him. The exchange couldn’t have lasted more than a breath, yet it shattered something inside the Shield’s soul.

He barely registered the loud crack reverberating in the silence of the haven before he had to close his eyes from the flash of light. When he opened them again, the camping chair was stumbling to the ground, Noctis’s magical shadow slowly vanishing into nothingness.

“Ignis!” He called behind him, striding at the edge of the haven.

“Prompto! Up!” Ignis was already fetching for his daggers and their flashlights.

Gladiolus didn’t wait to see if Prompto was following. He assumed the urgency in Ignis’ command was enough, as he heard urgent shuffling and panic conversation while he made his way down the slippery stones.

Heart beating fast, he called for Noctis name into the night.

***

As soon he made eye contact with his perpetrator, Noctis knew he didn’t have time to dwell anymore.

Standing up, he summoned a dagger from the armiger and warped.

The familiar tide of magic snatched him by the belly button and pulled him forward.

He fell hard on his knees and immediately tried to dive towards the car, but a quick look above his shoulders told him he would never have the time to start the vehicle, let alone to do it without the actual keys.

His head was throbbing and a wave of nausea hit him. He pushed forward and jumped above the half-broken fence before dashing through the night.

The wildness was entirely black, trees barely discernible in the darkness, even with the moon being full and shining light on the ground.

He could only see the shimmer, far ahead of him, that suggested water. If his guts were right, the path he had noticed earlier below the haven made its way around the forest, so it wasn’t so far-stretched to imagine it encircling the lake. Because it can only be a lake, right? They couldn’t be by the sea. No, the air didn’t smell like iodine and salt.

He glided on a slippery patch of grass and rose his arms in front of him to protect his face from getting hit by the branches while he ran. His feet kept catching in roots and rocks; not enough to make him fall, but enough to have him stumble and slower his course.

His arms stung from the cut and scratches. The rustling of the branches and the leaves he kept pushing through were louder than thunder in his ear, but he was too worried about putting as much distance as possible between him and his unknown perpetrators to focus on stealth. He was almost sure he had heard some shouting echoing behind him. Were they close? He couldn't hear anything anymore. Maybe they had encountered some daemons.

Or not. Weren’t daemons supposed to fear the light of haven? That would make them unlikely to venture so close to the camp. He fiercely hoped, demons or beasts, none of them would decide to chase him.

Maybe he should have thought this through. The pain drumming against his skull made the world fuzzy. He couldn't remember why he thought escaping in the middle of the night where he would be an easy, lone target for the wildlife was a good idea. 

What had triggered this urge to get away? Was it the eyes of the tattooed man, or the murmured conversation he had with the other one, hidden in the tent? Had they been talking about killing him, or something else entirely? He couldn’t remember the words, he...

Suddenly his boot hit muddy water.

Relief coursed through him. If he could make it far enough, his assailants wouldn't be able to tell which way he went, even if the ripples would reveal he had swum across. Chances were, they wouldn't notice the water being disturbed and would think he was hiding somewhere close. It would buy him enough time to find the road on the other side and make way towards civilization. Find help. A house with a phone, so he could call the Crown security unit and let them know where he was.

Blinding pain erupted in his ankle before he fell face flat in the muddy water.

Scrapping with his hands to get some leverage and kicking with all his might, he squirmed back to the surface and on his side. Pain blinded him. He desperately kicked the maw of the sahaguin. He yelled out of terror and kicked, kicked again, kicked harder. A gun materialized in his right hand from sheer despair; he emptied the barrel. 

If the beast reached any other, more vital part of him, he would be done for. Worse: if the Sahaguin managed to drag him further into the waters, there was no way he could fight it. He would drown. 

He wordlessly cried while emptying another barrel of bullets and finally - finally! - the sahuagin released his hold with an anguished shriek.

Noctis scampered back on his two feet. He needed to use something bigger, something that would do damages and...

The cannon went off. The recoil of the blast him flying back on his ass, but he had reached his target.

The sudden eerie silence, coated with the heavy smell of blood, confirmed his enemy was dead.

He kept listening anyway, slowly rising and wincing when he put weight on his left ankle. The silence remained unbroken, with only the sounds of the wind ruffling the leaves and his own laboured breathing.

His eyes were now used to the darkness and the moon as the only source of light. He could discern the shapes around him good enough to guess the borders of the pond and the vastness of the lake ahead.

Muffled groans from the shore reached him. Slouching sounds of something padding into water.

Other sahuagins.

They could smell the blood, he realized. No doubt the beasts had heard the fight and decided whoever had died would be their midnight snack.

 _‘And probably the victor too_ ’. His pants were covered in blood, carried by the current. He frantically looked around but the night, he knew, would cover them to human eyes. 

Engaging in a battle against an unknown number of enemies would be suicidal. Besides the men after him had probably heard all the ruckus and knew his position now. 

What now? He had run too far, he would never be able to get past both beasts and men to reach the road unnoticed. He wouldn’t survive fighting both groups. His ankle hurt like hell and the water was probably dirty and getting his wound infected and…

Water. He had forgotten his plan to swim across. 

A look at the dark waters crushed any relief he might have felt. What lurked below the dark surface? Did sahuagiHe couldn’t remember. He was pretty sure Cor had once lectured him about the common water beasts but he couldn't remember now. What if they followed him? What if they caught him when he was swimming, and ripped him in half with their long jaws, and...

"Noctis!"

Startled, he tried to look in the shadows of the trees.

"Noctis!"

The voices echoed in the night, sounding both far away and too close for Noctis' liking.

Ironing his resolve, he quickly removed his boots and tied them together onto the belt strap of his jeans by the laces.

He slowly stepped forward to avoid disturbing the water, walked past the limits of the pond drawn by roots and rocks, until his feet couldn’t touch the ground anymore. He started with slow breaststrokes until the shore sounded far enough and he dared to quicken his pace.

The water felt like ice. Not that it mattered. He kept his head above, too scared to dive and lose his sense of direction. His eyes locked onto the unbreached surface, guts wrenching at the mere idea of a fin suddenly breaking through. He couldn't see the end of the lake. I appeared to be never-ending. Tears burnt his eyelids. With no sight of land, he couldn’t estimate how long he would need to keep going, or if he would manage to reach land before whatever living things in the lake decided to get rid of him. On the shore, he had a small fighting chance. One sahaguin now and he there was nothing to do to save his life.

He tried not to think about daemons. They shouldn't be living in water, only closeby, but did his instructors know everything about wildlife when they taught him? Could there be something akin the marilith right below him?

A sob escaped him.

No, no no no no. He had to focus on getting to the other side. There was nothing to be done about it now. He could only hurry and pray his lucky star was watching over him.

Without sight of his final destination, the distance felt like kilometres. Time stretched like a rubber band, the clock ticking the seconds before his inevitable doom.

His weight clothes weighed heavily on his body, dragging him down, draining any little energy he had left. No amount of swimming in the pool could have prepared him to fight against the hidden current of an actual lake. He had to fight the urge to scream whenever something fleshy ghostly touched his legs or his arms. He wanted to beg for mercy, for the monster not to reach him, and at the same time wanted to cry for those things he could feel moving around him in the water just to finish him and put a stop to the terror.

Hope bloomed in his chest when he finally discerned the shadow of land. The shapes of the trees sharply cut the star-filled night sky.

Fatigue had long forced him to switch from proper swimming to mere paddling. He hardly had energy left in him to grip the pending roots and to drag his body onto land.

It wasn’t the other side. The island was small, only harbouring a few trees. Past the pond, the water stretched even further until it faded into the darkness.

He warily surveyed his surroundings for sahaguins and found none in sight. 

He should have felt safe. There were no monsters here. The existence of the fishing pond was enough of a clue of how peaceful the place was, if civilians came here for leisure. He had escaped his kidnappers. They would either give up their search or look for him the other side he had not reached yet. They wouldn't find him. He had survived the monsters lurking in the lake, too.

He didn’t feel safe at all.

He rested below the trees for a while but paranoia kept nagging at him. Once his muscles had stopped screaming in agony, he chose a spot where roots ran into the water and settled in it. After staying wet under the chilling breeze for almost an hour, the water almost felt more lukewarm. Here he could stay hidden from view if the men decided to inspect this island. He doubted sahaguins would venture in the roots. Right?

He fell asleep before he could finish that thought.

***

"Noct!"

Prompto's voice cracked. It wasn’t surprising: they had been calling out for the Prince for hours. Dawn was on its way. The colors of the sky painted the water pink, golden sparkles sprinkled on the swirls produced by the currents underneath. The Vesper Lake was such a sight to see when the weather allowed its true colours to show. He couldn’t help but think of Prompto who, any other day, would be already marvelling at the show while snatching snippets of it, and how he would himself spend an extra few minutes to enjoy the view after his workout. Yet here they were, colours looking nothing but dull, dread nestled in their stomach. 

Noctis had yet to be found.

In less than an hour, the risk to encounter daemons would be down to zero. It felt like a rather poor comforting idea, as there was no certainty of the whereabouts of their charge.

"I hate to say it, but obviously he didn't make it here."

Gladio rose from his kneeling position, eyes tracking the imprinted mud.

"Well, that leaves us with several options."

Prompto, who had been eyeing them back and forth, didn't seem to understand their silence exchange until his face contorted in horror.

"What?! No! You don't think he could have drowned, do you?!"

"He also could have been hiding on the other side for the whole night. With so little light to guide us, us missing him in passing isn't far-stretched."

"He could have been following the shore and hit for the road mid-way," Gladio added, then whistled for the chocobos.

They both sounded like they were trying to reassure themselves, he knew. While all scenarios were possible, spending six hours in the outdoors in the dark, hurt, disoriented and weaponless...Gladio shook his head to evade from the sombre scenarios popping in his mind.

"Let's cross the water to get back to camp. " Ignis grabbed for his Chocobo and hopped on. "It should bring us faster to our destination, and we will inspect the woods again."

Prompto looked like he was about to protest or ask something, but his jaw clammed just before any words left his mouth. Gladio guessed he had been about to ask where they would search next, if the woods proved to be as empty as the road had been. What the next plan was.

What was it indeed?

What happened if they couldn’t find him? They would probably call Cor to explain their predicament, he figured. The Marshal would come, surely, to help them find Noctis. Except, maybe there wouldn't be a body left to find.

A world without Noctis. It had never occurred to him he might live in one. Before Noctis became his King, he had been a childhood friend; and before he was a friend, he had been a Prince. Somehow, Noctis had always existed in his life, just like the moon rose in the night sky whether he could see it or not. 

He couldn't imagine a world where there wasn’t a Noctis to protect. Even if the world believed the last of the Lucian King to be dead since the fall of Insomnia, the fact remained the heir to the throne was still alive.

Hope to _get their home back_ was still alive.

Unknown to the world, that hope could be lost forever tonight. Only a few survivors of the Citadel would know.

"Noctis!"

"Oh my gosh, Noct!"

"Quick! Prompto, an elixir!"

Gladio jumped after Prompto.

"Noct!" He heard himself call out even if he couldn't see him yet.

Ignis was already crouching down to untangle their charge's arms from the roots he had been gripping. In the unveiling light of dawn, the small island barely stood out from the darkness. Their blaring lights made the scene even more chilling. Noctis floated there, face barely above the surface of the water, chin held by a root. The rest of his body is floated like a drowned corpse, face white and open lips blue.

Despite all, the Prince of Lucis was still alive and breathing. Or so announced Ignis, voice tight, after checking for a pulse.

Noctis was wrapped into Ignis’ jacket. Gladio hauled him up on his chocobo and cradled him against his chest, hoping to share some warmth.

"Let's make haste to camp. Prompto, with me. We shall guard the front and clear the path."

“Y-yeah! On it!”

Gladio found himself praying.

**Author's Note:**

> Second chapter will focus on the prompt "hallucination".  
> Feel free to yell at me in the comment. I love it.  
> I have other prompts to attend before starting on "hallucination", but hopefully I will stay on track and be able to post it before the end of October!


End file.
